Madness -- for the archives
(SW:Phantom Menace; spoilers and AU for movies and novels)(Obi-Wan/Maul, implied Xanatos/Qui-Gon)(R) Maul survives and forms an unholy alliance. Jedi and Sith share an apprentice. War envelops the Republic and the Empire. And Maul wants Obi-Wan. Badly.
The next few years were oddly calm, a routine of classes and discovery for Anakin, of teaching and rediscovering limitations for Qui-Gon, and the blossoming of Obi-Wan’s career. He’d learned well from Qui-Gon, but once he was set loose on his own, his style changed to reflect his personality. He was adept at negotiation, a stickler for detail with a warm personal style that drew beings in and created goodwill that lasted long after he left the negotiating table.
It was a good thing. The Republic was in crisis. Unexpected figures had risen to positions of power. A schism was in the making.
Anakin was a gangly fifteen year old when Obi-Wan next got a chance to spend some off-duty time at the Temple, without being stuck in a bacta tank. It had been a tough six years, with barely time to catch his breath and regain his strength before being tossed back out into the fray. The opportunity to spend a few weeks in quiet meditation and lively debate with Qui-Gon, to spar and tease Anakin, to sleep in the same clean warm bed for more than two days in a row, was a blessing.
Or so he thought, until he arrived at Qui-Gon’s quarters for mid-day meal. Qui-Gon wasn’t there, but Anakin was, and he looked upset.
“Obi-Wan!” he exclaimed, happiness driving the shadow from his face for a moment. “When did you get in?”
“Just a while ago, long enough to drop off my report and head here. The Council’s in session so I’m spared that for now.” He grinned at Anakin and the boy grinned back, but dropped back into a preoccupied frown much too soon.
As Obi-Wan wandered over to the couch and sat down, Anakin hovered. “Would you like some tea? Or maybe a cold drink? Are you hungry?”
Obi-Wan patted the cushion next to him. “I’m fine, and you’re obviously not. Sit, Anakin. Talk to me. What’s got you all wound up?”
With a heavy sigh, Anakin plopped down gracelessly next to him. “It’s Master Qui-Gon.”
“Is he sick?” Obi-Wan interjected, worried.
“No, he’s okay, well, he’s not physically having problems…” He sighed again and blurted out, “Did you know about Xanatos?”
Obi-Wan winced. “Some. He was Qui-Gon’s Padawan before me. Failed his trials, turned his back on the order, had a big fight with Qui-Gon… Master never talked about him, but the scuttlebutt around the time of my Choosing was that Qui-Gon didn’t want to take another Padawan for fear he’d have another failure on his hands. He turned me down at first: in fact, I was on my way to Bandomeer to become a farmer when the Force decided it had other plans for us.”
Anakin, having heard the tale of Obi-Wan’s adventures before, nodded. “Well, he’s surfaced.”
“That’s not good news,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “Has he approached Qui-Gon?”
“Nope,” Anakin shrugged, “but he hasn’t had to. You know the new Senate seat that was created for the Outer Worlds Federation?”
Obi-Wan nodded. It had been quite a stir a year or so ago, when several of the non-Republic worlds banded together and formed a Federation, supposedly to protect their interests and boost their bargaining power in dealings with the Republic. In a gesture of diplomatic good faith, Chancellor Valorum had proposed, and the Senate approved, a seat at the Great Hall for the new Federation.
“He’s their Senator,” Anakin told him baldly.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Obi-Wan winced. “How did Qui-Gon take it? And why didn’t he say anything to me about it?” Not that he’d expect much; since going out on his own, he and his former Master hadn’t kept in contact as much as he’d have liked, but as busy as they’d both been, that wasn’t all that surprising.
“You were undercover on Mirial, then you were stuck in the Healers’ Ward at the Temple on Jorval. This is the first time we’ve had a chance to talk to you in months.”
“Good point. And it’s probably not something he’d want to leave in a message.”
“He’s been meditating a lot. So far I don’t think they’ve spoken, but I know Master saw him, a couple days ago at the Senate when he was meeting the Chancellor. He was really quiet when he got home.” Anakin paused, then added softly, “I’m worried about him.”
Obi-Wan patted the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “He’s a strong man, but sometimes the past can haunt you. Just do what you can, listen if he decides to speak on it. Your presence is no doubt a comfort to him.”
“Do you think so?” For the first time in years, the uncertain little boy shone out of Anakin’s eyes.
Going on instinct, Obi-Wan gathered Anakin up in a hug, and whispered in his ear, “I know so.”
Anakin hugged him back with all his strength. When he sat back, Obi-Wan was pleased to see the shadows in his expression had lessened.
“You know, tea does sound good, come to think on it.”
They were putting the mid-day meal on the table when Qui-Gon came in. He looked tired and frustrated, but his face lit up on seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin.
“You weren’t set to arrive for another three days, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon smiled as he and Obi-Wan clasped hands.
“Talked my way onto a Correllian freighter and hopped it when I got the chance,” Obi-Wan admitted.
As they settled down at the table to eat, Obi-Wan took the wildcat by the tail and said quietly, “I hear a new Senator’s been seated.”
Qui-Gon glanced over at Anakin, who stared at his plate, cheeks turning red in a blush. Qui-Gon chuckled, surprising the boy into looking up. “Didn’t take long for the news of Xanatos’ return to make it to your ears.”
“Better forewarned than surprised,” Obi-Wan quipped.
Qui-Gon slanted him a look, and he found himself blushing a little as well. Anakin shared a commiserating glance with him.
“Yes, he’s here. He’s been keeping a low profile, though. Very clean hands, and believe me, I’ve looked.”
“How are you dealing with it?” Obi-Wan pressed.
Anakin looked at him like he was insane. Obi-Wan shrugged. Better to have it out in the open so it could be dealt with than have it remain a large white Proboscidea in the room that everyone pretended didn’t exist.
“I’m releasing my frustration into the Force,” Qui-Gon informed him through gritted teeth.
“Looks like that’s working well for you,” Obi-Wan observed.
Anakin snorted juice through his nose, and Knight and Master watched with interest as the Padawan mopped his face, the table, and his tunic, while attempting to disappear.
“Xanatos is not the current cause of my frustration,” Qui-Gon admitted.
“What now?” Anakin asked involuntarily.
“I have been installed, over my protestations, as the newest member of the Council.”
Anakin was too busy gaping to say anything. Obi-Wan managed to hold it for a breath, but then he was laughing too hard to say anything.
Conversation degenerated from there.
Thinking on it a few days later as he sparred with Anakin in one of the larger training salles, Obi-Wan decided it was one of the most enjoyable leaves he’d ever spent. Unfortunately, a situation blew up on Rodia, and once again, it was cut short.
Such was the story of his life. Sometimes, being the best was a tiresome business.
As chaos grew steadily from the fringes of the Republic toward the center, Obi-Wan was a beacon for the Jedi, the best ambassador they could have put forward.
When war began, Obi-Wan added military strategy to his political negotiation prowess. At the head of divisions of the Droid army, he did his utmost to protect and defend the Republic from the Separatists and their clone forces.
But events were bigger than any one man, and the partnership in shadows had reached places no Jedi could expect.